


Captured Warmth

by fondofthehowes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Morning Sex, Short & Sweet, not super explicit, pre-landsmeet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:35:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28291737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fondofthehowes/pseuds/fondofthehowes
Summary: The light barely kisses the side of Magnolia’s cheek with her hair blocking the rest. A dark curtain against an otherwise bright morning, allowing her a moment more. Just a few minutes of a gift wrapped around her body, pulling her into a near escapable hold. Not that she would want to leave it. To do so would mean dealing with the world outside their room.Denerim waits for them. With eyes that narrow and mouths that whisper bitter gossip. The bastard and the orphan, what a pair they make.Yes, Magnolia sleepily thinks, pressing her nose harder into Alistair’s collarbone,what a pair indeed.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 29





	Captured Warmth

The light barely kisses the side of Magnolia’s cheek with her hair blocking the rest. A dark curtain against an otherwise bright morning, allowing her a moment more. Just a few minutes of a gift wrapped around her body, pulling her into a near escapable hold. Not that she would want to leave it. To do so would mean dealing with the world outside their room. 

Denerim waits for them. With eyes that narrow and mouths that whisper bitter gossip. The bastard and the orphan, what a pair they make. 

_ Yes _ , Magnolia sleepily thinks, pressing her nose harder into Alistair’s collarbone,  _ what a pair indeed _ . 

Alistair breathes a little deeper, a warning sign of waking Magnolia has learned to both endear and despise. A low grumble of an unformed word rattles in his chest against her and she hums back a response. Lips press against the top of her head gently as tight arms only constrict further against him, drawing heat from his skin to hers. The world’s greatest conductor, it seems, driving red flush against her neck and arms each time. 

“Good morning,” Alistair breathes into her hair, kissing the spot again. “Sleep well?” 

Magnolia leans her head back as far as she can will it, searching for his eyes, but only finds the better part of his cheek and chin. “It’s not a bed roll on the ground, so yes, I did.” 

A laugh blows weakly from his lips and he releases her, just a touch to let her push up against her elbow and meet his eyeline. She watches as he finds her eyes and smiles, but just as quickly grazes the rest of her that the blanket no longer touches. 

“Enjoying the sights of Denerim?” She asks, reaching up to thread a hand through his hair, scratching gently against his scalp. “Didn’t get a good enough tour last night?” 

Alistair’s cheeks flush with red and he ducks his head, closing his eyes. All at once, Magnolia is pulled back down by her thigh, sliding back against the pillows with a laugh. His other tugs at her side, firmly planting himself over her. She must look so small like this, she thinks, taking in just how large Alistair feels when he towers over her like this. It’s comforting. Safe. 

“You know,” Alistair sighs, leaning in to place a kiss against the skin that dares to show on Magnolia’s collar, “I don’t think I did. Don’t get me wrong it was a wonderful tour. Saw… all the sights.” 

“Hit the high points?” 

“Yes, I believe so. All the main attractions.” 

“Yet, you want a repeat? What a marvelous city it must be,” Magnolia murmurs, turning her head to breathe the words against his burning ear. 

Alistair groans in weak agreement against her, hand curling harder into her thigh with a thumb digging against the top. “You’re awful. The absolute death of me, Magnolia.” 

“ _ Ohh _ ,” She purrs, reaching around his side to draw a finger up his back. “Full name, hm? Well, I guess it stands to reason you would use it now since you couldn’t get past the first letter last night.” 

“You’re awful!” Alistair repeats with no venom, and kisses harder against her neck. He nips at the skin, quick bites along the column of her throat, until he lands beneath her ear and hesitates. “When do they expect us, again?” 

Her eyes flit to the light coming into the room and she squints, trying to somehow gauge the time. They said near noon for a luncheon, but surely they have a few hours at least. And should they come searching for them, well, that’s simply not her problem. 

“Lunch. It’s barely morning,” She says, tugging on his hip to pull him back down against her. “Now, lay down, you’re letting the warmth out of the sheets.” 

Alistair hums in agreement, settling harder against her, curling a hand beneath the pillow beneath her head. His knees cautiously nudge hers, finding a place in the gap between. She instead takes to lifting them, heels tucked into his inner thighs. 

“Trapping me?” He asks, pulling back to look at her. His eyes are fluttering between a delicious lull of desire and excitement. “Why, I never thought you would resort to such tactics. I—” 

“Alistair?” Magnolia sighs, reaching up to cradle his face. Her fingers lay flat beneath his chin as her thumb hooks securely against his jaw before pulling him down another inch. Their lips brush, just so, and she can feel his breath catch. “Are you going to make me say it?” 

She can feel the heavy swallow press against her hand before it falls away down his throat. All this time and he still falters here. Confident and hungry, self-assured and commanding, these all come back in a few moments—but here, held in the moment balanced on the precipice, he always stops. A lazy grin pulls on his cheeks and he nods, once, pulling in a deeper breath. 

“Fuck me,” Magnolia murmurs, eyes demanding all his focus, “please?” 

His lips crash against hers, groan trapped between teeth and hissed breath. The blanket is pulled up with his free hand, dropping it over them both as they settle into the new world of pink filtered warmth. Fingers slide with ease into her hair, holding her firm against him as he takes her lower lip between his own, sucking on it lazily. He’s sweet, even upon waking in a way that she would likely be unable to convince anyone else of. 

Releasing her thigh, his hand grazes upwards against her hip and he huffs against her mouth. “I still can’t believe you’re not wearing any underclothes.” 

Rocking up into his touch, she encourages his hand downwards and smiles. “They’re in the same place they’ve been since you  _ threw  _ them last night.” Stealing another kiss, her hand ghosts against his hip, finding it bare of fabric as well. “You, messere, have no room to talk. Come on now,” She murmurs, fingers dancing further until they drag across his abdomen, pulling a groan from his lips, “you can’t say it doesn’t make things a little faster.” 

Alistair’s face tries to twist into the mock disappointment he loves to tease her with, but it melts the moment her fingers capture him. His elbow shakes against the bed next to her head, a small quiver of resistance until she starts to move, undoing him slowly. She strokes, kneading her thumb just so against his base each time she returns, and swallows all sound against her lips. 

“Mags,” Alistair gasps out as she once more makes a full stroke, “you said faster, not torture me.” 

“Just making sure you’re properly warmed up and whatever was poking me earlier wasn’t just a sweet ‘good morning’,” She hums, releasing him in favor of reaching up between them to hold his face. “Lucky for me you still aren’t immune to my touch.”

Alistair kisses her again, grinning hard against her mouth as he rocks his hips up. Reaching down, he returns the teasing favor, drawing her open and hums at her warmth. 

“I don’t think you ever have to worry about that,” he murmurs, laughing as a soft gasp slips past her clenched teeth. He circles her, once, twice, letting her writhe softly beneath him before adjusting himself. “Lucky for me, too, that you’re just as weak.”

Her legs tighten around his hips, feet driving him forward and his forehead presses against her own. His eyes narrow with no real threat, and any that existed disappears regardless as he enters her. Even with a face known to be expressive, there is no greater look that hangs on Alistair’s face than in these moments. Comfort mixed with pleasure, a smile that quivers on a bitten lip and eyes that lull with a warmth that could soothe her on a winter day. It’s discarded quickly for another as he rocks back for the first time and she once again curses herself for missing the rest, trading her view for the darkness of eyes that can do nothing but pinch closed.

It all blurs in heavy warmth. His fingers, curled into her neck and the mattress above her head. Her back, arching in desperate question that is answered again and again. Feet that push into the sheets, trying to find traction to get a little further, go a little harder. A mouth that gasps her name, but only a single syllable like a prayer against her ear. She listens, and acts upon the request with none too gentle kisses against a sweat shined collarbone. 

When he rests over her like this, all encompassing and whole, she knows it would be easy to sink away. Disappear into his hands like putty that is more than willing to be bent and stretched—and other men have done so before. Alistair, she’s learned, doesn’t desire this. He instead pulls her to the surface, begs for her presence. She provides it in small indentations on his neck and fine scratches on his back to paint a picture. Messy and tangled with a drive behind it no one word can describe. 

The closest might be ‘forever’, but neither are willing to put money on it yet. 

Shuddering against her, he sucks in a breath between his teeth, letting it escape as a laugh. It’s weak, yet full of satisfaction, and she returns it with one of her own. She urges him back up to face her, nose against nose with shining eyes and sore lips. 

“So,” She murmurs, reaching up to stroke his cheek as a smile pushes onto hers, “how was the second tour?” 

Alistair huffs out another laugh, kissing her once before leaning forward to press his forehead to hers. “Maker, I got distracted by the beauty of it all, honestly. I keep missing things.” 

“I don’t think it’s going anywhere any time soon. You have time,” She whispers, speaking a truth neither of them have yet. A small nervous hold finds its way against her chest, urging her to continue. “That is, if you want it.” 

“Oh, I do,” Alistair says quickly, beaming brighter than the rising sun that has now swallowed the room in mid-morning light. He sighs, breathing her in for a moment and kisses her cheek. “I think I always will.”


End file.
